June had grown solemn. “Yes Eugene, but what…”
“Do you want to talk about that? Tell me why you said such things.”
June looked away and her pointy chin jutted into the air. “I really can’t remember why.”
The doctor stared at her for a few moments. Should he or shouldn’t he? Well, he wasn’t a police officer was he? June Senior was a big girl now, all grown up. He wasn’t her parole officer, after all. He signed the discharge papers. “Alright then June, you’re a free woman. You know what I always say. Watch yourself, hmmm? Not too many sweets this time around. Oh, and your son-in-law is here to see you.”
“Dan? Dan is here?”
“I think he said his name was Dan, yes. I really must go now. Call the office for an appointment, hmmm?” He was probably imagining his suspicions, thought Dr. Hart. It was just sheer craziness to suspect foul play in a prosperous, respectable family like the Dingwerths. Wasn’t it?
He passed Dan on the way out and nodded. Seemed like a nice enough young man, but there again, no one had ever mentioned him, not that he could recall. Strange, wasn’t it? Or, maybe it wasn’t.
The plain fact was, he thought while he drove his car onto the highway, the Dingwerths were odd ducks. What was strange behavior for many people could seem perfectly normal for people like them, whatever people like them were like. Still, if his instincts were correct, and they usually were, his instincts screamed louder the farther away he drove. Something about fraud, something about deceit, something about money. Add them all up, and what did he get?
He pulled into the parking lot of the Green Parrot Lounge and leaned against the steering wheel. His stomach felt bloated, acid burned his throat. Answer the question, Hart, he chided himself. C’mon, what did he get? From the depths of his mind, June’s words echoed, “…it might not be an accident. It might not happen in the way that it was meant to.” Fraud + Deceit + Money = Accident?
Or not. He just didn’t know anymore.
A visit from Dan? June couldn’t figure this one out. This, or anything else, for that matter. Everyone, including Eugene Hart, had been acting as if she was going to die any minute, and that was simply out of the question as far as she was concerned. Oh, she’d had a little scare now and then, but who hadn’t? Why was everyone so, so tense? Well, here was Dan, no time to think about all of it.
The late afternoon sun glared through the open blinds and Dan squinted, turning his head away from the wide window. “How are you, June?”
Odd. Very odd. She would get right to the point. “Dan, would you like to be the one to tell me what is going on?”
Dan plopped in the padded armchair beside her bed and closed his eyes, but only for a second. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“Dan, why did you come to visit me now? Did you know I was going home this evening?”
“I had heard that, yes, but…”
“Then why are you here? You obviously have something on your mind. Can’t it wait until I get home?”
“No, it can’t. Just hear me out. See, there’s something you should know.”
“About what?” This was like pulling teeth, thought June. Just listening was making her sick again, and yet, something about Dan reminded her so much of herself. What was it? Trapped. That’s what he was saying; trapped, all these years, just like her. My God, was she losing her mind? All of these blasted narcotics were making her thinking so fuzzy today. Now, Dan was mumbling away again, his hands wringing themselves raw, something about—yes, she heard him correctly—trapped! He felt trapped!
“I’ve tried to talk to Bunny about this, but you’re going to hate me, aren’t you? Is Bunny coming here or is she waiting back at the house?”
“I don’t understand. Or maybe I do, I just don’t know. Did you have a fight with Bunny—is that it? Because Giles and I learned how to fight years ago, Dan. And now, we don’t argue at all, anymore. Because, you see, we both just know how it is, you see.”
Dan glanced up at her with a blotchy, tear-stained face. “How it is? What do you mean? How what is?”
“You know, as the years go by, you just learn what to expect. It all becomes predictable. You know what you’re going to get from your relationship, and what you’re not.”
“See, there it is—what you just said—about what you’re not going to get.”
“What about it?”
“How do you ever get it?”
“Well, Dan, you don’t. You just don’t. That’s life. You make choices, and that’s all there is to it.”
“June, are you happy?”
“I don’t know. I should be. People tell me I should be, and so, I suppose I am. I set out to marry a wealthy, good-looking man, and I did, so I did what I set out to do. I should be happy about that.”
Dan smiled, a sad, wistful smile. “You mean, you had a plan and you reached your goal, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“June, do you believe in love at first sight?”
At this question, June’s expression softened. For a moment, her tender memories carried her to a distant place and time. “I did. Maybe I still do. But, you know Dan, a love like that can break your heart. I wonder, is that a love worth having?” She paused and cleared her throat. “I did what I set out to do, and I should be happy about it. So, I am. Besides, what’s the choice? It’s far too late for me to choose anyone else.” June frowned. Her gaze never wavered from Dan’s face, even as she spoke, slowly, deliberately. “And frankly, Dan,” she said, “it’s too late for you as well.”
Dan kissed her on the cheek and left the room, satisfied he had the answer to his dilemma. Until he was alone again, to think about the possibility that June was right: that there was no such thing as magic, or angels, or miracles or love at first sight. Only carefully laid, rational plans that either worked or didn’t. No magic in the moonlight for June, or he supposed, for him.
He pulled onto the highway; his frenzied mind whipped into a whirlwind of what-ifs. Dammit, he wasn’t ready to die yet. Even if she vanished tomorrow, a moonlit magic had once upon a time enchanted him. Suddenly, he realized the tragic truth of June’s reality.
Her rational plans had ensured her security, yes. Was not security the foe of stardust and miracles? She’d never sense the gust of wind beneath an angel’s wings, or know the giddy intoxication of wild roses simmering beneath a summer sun. Scarlet passion would never scorch her heart; nor would her fondest dreams dissolve in a river of bitter tears. No passion or dreams for June. Ah, security!
Dan knew one thing. June had never known anyone like Leila Bolivar. Lately, however, the magic seemed to be fading; the twinkle in Leila’s stardust had grown dull. Perhaps Rocco knew more about women like Leila than he did, Dan decided. That’s what he would do! A beer or two with Rocco, and together, they would solve the mysteries of a woman’s mind. Once again, Dan had a Plan.
Sixteen
Bunny took a long sip of the steaming tea. Her nose wriggled at the lemony scent. Her eyes looked pink and swollen from sobbing and a pile of scrunched pink tissues lay piled in her lap. “Are you this nice to all of your customers, Brock?”
“Of course I am. Feeling better?”
“Yes, but I haven’t told you what’s wrong yet.”
“You haven’t told me what we’re doing to your hair, either.” Brock grinned.
Bunny took another sip and wiggled her pretty pink nose. “The thing is, I don’t know what to do. But, I do know one thing.”
Brock leaned down close to her ear and whispered. “What is that?”
“I have to do something. Something really different.”
“But really, you are quite attractive the way that you are, Mrs. Hunted. I mean, Hunter, uh…Bunny.”
“I have it! I have an idea!”
Those were the words Brock dreaded most. In his thirty-two years of exper
ience, they almost always meant trouble on the network. He had decided something else as well. He would have to think of a memorable way to thank Penny for this referral, he really would, because he wanted her to think twice before she ever did something like this a second time. For now, he had his work cut out for him. “What is that idea? You can tell me.”
“Take me darker. Much darker. I mean, down to my natural col…oops.”
Brock stared at the coffee-colored roots on Bunny’s scalp, not yet an inch long. He couldn’t believe a girl like Bunny really meant what she had just said. “Do you know what you are saying? It will alter your appearance completely. You will have to change your makeup, possibly even your choice of clothing, everything. You’ll look like a totally different woman.”
Bunny squealed with delight. “Oh goodie, goodie, goodie. Danny will be so surprised. Not to mention Mommy. Well, June—I mean June Dingwerth is her real name, did I tell you that?”
Brock had seen a lot of customers come and go throughout the years. Most wanted to enhance their appearance, some wanted simply to maintain it, and then, there were those like Bunny, who wanted to completely change it. In Brock’s experience, this signified more than just an outward transformation. Hadn’t she mentioned husband trouble? What was that about her Mommy, The June?
“Do you think your own mother will recognize you?” he said with a slight chuckle.
Suddenly, Bunny grew somber. “It might cheer her up. She’s been so sad.”
“Sad? Why?”
“Who really knows? She doesn’t say much, and when she does, you’d swear she was delirious. Like the other day at the hospital, she was telling us that someone was trying to kill her.”
“What did you just say?”
“I know. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous? She insisted she didn’t want to go home because it wasn’t safe. She said someone tried to poison her.”
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s crazy, and I’m sure Dr. Hart does too. The only people who live in the house are Daddy and Felicity, and well, it’s plain crazy to think that they’re trying to kill her. I mean, why would they want to do that?”
“Maybe she knows too much about something.” From the look of despair on Bunny’s face, he wished he hadn’t said that last remark. From the look on Bunny’s face, maybe she knew too much for her own good as well. He felt uneasy. It was time to simply do his work and call it a day. “Well, let’s mix your hair color, shall we?”
Bunny clapped her pink hands in anticipation. “I’m just so excited. Hey Brock, maybe my husband will think I’m someone else. Wouldn’t that be like, the ultimate compliment?”
Brock smiled and strolled back to the color room. He wouldn’t have taken it that way. No, he wouldn’t, but…maybe Bunny Hunter knew too much for her own good.
The Green Parrot Lounge would not have been Dr. Hart’s first choice for a casual drink. Marc insisted it had a certain ambiance, and well, he did work at the Hotel Charlotte, after all. He was the expert on ambiance. Still, once the doctor parked in the lot littered with empty cans and bottles, he was afraid to get out of his car.
The gangs that dotted the dark parking lot intimidated him, not to mention the various “ladies” who lurked in the shadows. It had been seedy when Dr. Hart was last here with Angela, and that had easily been five years ago, but Marc had assured him the lounge had improved. Ah, Angela. How those memories still stung like a hornet. Somehow, he would have to find a way to move on without her.
He pulled his keys from the ignition and opened the car door. The frigid night air blasted his face, and he gasped. He hadn’t expected the wind to be so harsh. Amid the figures loitering in the parking lot, he trudged to the front door of the lounge. He was amazed that, although he felt the wanton stares, he was not approached. Must be his devil-may-care attitude, he decided.
It was a good thing he’d saved his energy. The moment he opened the creaky front door, his solace ended. A gruff voice boomed from the corner near the end of the bar. “Who’re you?”
Where was Marc? Was he in the right place? Never one for weapons before now, the doctor suddenly wished he possessed one. The customers slouched at the bar glanced at him with an inexplicable contempt. He was about to leave when he saw him: a short, wiry man in his thirties with a chip on his shoulder to match his surly swagger.
“Cain’t you hear, boy?” he said. “I said, who’re you?”
Dr. Hart felt the sticky silence. Everyone was staring at him. “I must be in the wrong place. Is this the Green Parrot Lounge?”
“What’s it look like?”
Clearly, thought the doctor, he can’t expect me to answer that question. How does one describe a place where women’s undergarments hang from the blades of ceiling fans, and a hand-carved wooden sign by the bar reads, “No means no, and yes means maybe?” He was on the verge of leaving when he heard him.
“Eugene! Over here!”
Peering through the smoky haze, he saw him emerging from what seemed like a back room behind the bar. It was Marc, dressed in a geometric print shirt and silken gray trousers. Sleek and lean, he made his way to where he stood. “It’s okay, Tugg. He’s with me.”
“With you? You’re kiddin’.”
“Get us a couple of drinks, okay?” He turned to the doctor. “What are you having?”
“Uh, whatever you are. Listen, Marc—”
“Just a couple of Bud Lights. We’ll be over here.” Marc gestured to a corner table. “This okay with you, Eugene?”
“Marc, I don’t know about this place. I mean, why—”
“I thought you might ask. It’s an unlikely choice for me, I know that. But, here I can be what I want, with who I want.”
Dr. Hart twitched with nervous tension. “You’re kidding.”
“I suppose I didn’t explain the reason.”
“Which is?”
“The Green Parrot Lounge is an investment for me. Kind of like a retirement nest egg. You should have seen this place when I bought it last year. It’s really come a long way.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Would somebody say something new? Please, I’m not kidding. I mean, I’m perfectly serious about this place, and no one ever seems to believe me. It was condemned a year ago, and look at it now. Okay, maybe business isn’t exactly booming yet, but I’m breaking even most months, and around holiday time, things really start to pick up. The only thing that hasn’t improved much are my employees’ manners, and okay, maybe their hygiene could use a little work. The Health Department had a little talk with me about that one. Okay, I’ll admit some minor issues, but there’s room for improvement in any business, right? I talk to my people from time to time, and things do improve around here—for a little while. See, the way I see it, a guy has to have a plan. He has to have goals.”
Marc paused for a moment while Tugg grudgingly slid two beer bottles across the wooden table. He nodded at Tugg and continued. “Which brings me to the reason I asked you to meet me here tonight.”
“You’ve got me on the edge of my seat, you really do. Don’t tell me you want me to invest my money in this place.” He stared at the beer in front of him, too intimidated to make eye contact with the other customers.
“Forget it, Eugene. This place is all mine, buddy. No, actually, this is something that already involves you.”
“Me? What is it?”
“I believe we have a mutual, uh, friend? Well, maybe that’s not the right term. Acquaintance might be more like it.”
“You’re driving me crazy with all these innuendos. What is this, a game of cat and mouse? Just tell me what’s on your mind. I really don’t know how much longer I can take sitting here.”
“Okay, here goes nothing. Brock Edwards called me today. He said the minute you heard the name, you’d know what it was all about. Something about June somebody and her daughter. Some Bunny lady came into his shop and really upset him. You know how emotional he can be.”
/> “Only too well. Marc, I just don’t see how this involves me. Besides, you know I never discuss my patients. Never.”
“Okay, but Brock still thought you should know. He was afraid Angela wouldn’t tell you, even though he asked her to. You know, I actually believe him on this one.”
“Tell me what?”
“This customer, whoever it was that came to see Brock, said this June lady was convinced someone was trying to kill her, and that she shouldn’t go home from the hospital. This Bunny was having husband troubles herself, so who knows? With some guy named Dan, I think. Brock said she was in tears for most of her appointment.”
“Sounds like the ravings of a hysterical woman. If I were you, I’d pay no attention.”
“Well, I wouldn’t, except that Brock was so persuasive.”
“Why didn’t he call me himself?”
“He thinks you hate him.”
“I do.”
“Well, there it is. I suppose our discussion is over. You know, Eugene, it’s not like you to let emotions rule your decisions. It’s never happened before.”
“My wife never left me for another man before either. But—and you can pass this on to Brock—I am adjusting to my new single life quite nicely. He need not worry about me, as I am not worrying about him, Angela, or anyone else.”
“Right.” Marc took a swig from his bottle and glanced around the smoky room. “So, do you see yourself getting back together with Angela?”
“Do you see yourself getting back together with Brock?”
“Okay, I deserve that. Look, it’s getting late.”
“Not really.
“It feels like it. Let’s call it a night, shall we?”
Dr. Hart had barely made it to his car when his cell phone rang. It was going to be one of those nights. “Hello?”
“Eugene, it’s Giles. Giles Dingwerth.”
Crazy for You Page 13
